


Various Methods of Escape

by monstersinthecosmos



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Blood, CMNM, Choking, Humiliation, M/M, PWP, canon non-compliant porn, makin use of that interview table
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 12:31:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13570644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monstersinthecosmos/pseuds/monstersinthecosmos
Summary: The collection of tapes was more subtle than notches on a bedpost.





	Various Methods of Escape

**Author's Note:**

> yooo I'm so excited to share this like a PICTURE BOOK with a [@superhiki](http://superhiki.tumblr.com/) piece in here to illustrate !! THANKS HIKI IT'S SO GOOD!!!1
> 
> Anyway. Named after [Various Methods of Escape](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Om0lCG1RjHQ) by Nine Inch Nails. MAH JAM!

_An effigy so wondrous to behold_  
_Statements so profound_  
_A place to bury everything I did_  
_And burn it to the ground_  
_A fire illuminates the final scene_  
_The past repeats itself_  
_I cannot tell the difference anymore_  
_I cannot trust myself_

Nine Inch Nails - Various Methods of Escape

* * *

 

 

_1973_

It had taken a couple hours, but Daniel’s hands had finally stopped shaking. There was still the shrill, squirming energy beneath his skin, tight beneath every raised hair, tingling in his fingertips. But he hoped Louis wouldn't notice.

He wondered, of course. Wondered if Louis could notice. The idea that the vampire knew somehow, maybe could sense it, kept tying his stomach in knots. He could go calm for a time, utterly immersed in the smooth timbre of his voice, the measured and patient cadence. But his instinct kept coming back, fight or flight, and his insides kept going cold, his heart thrashing like a bird caged in his ribs.

Fuck. Louis knew, didn't he? His gaze was too unwavering, too calm.

His palms felt slick against the table--he'd stopped shaking but not sweating--and he reached for his cigarettes by mere force of habit. But his fingers just danced across the wrinkled surface of the pack without taking one. He'd already had too many--it might make him start to shake again.

“Are you listening, Daniel?” Louis asked.

It was a simple question, really, but it shocked through Daniel’s gut like an accusation. He felt the cold creeping around his hairline, sweating again, and pressed his blunt fingernails against the tabletop to avoid trembling.

He began to answer and he heard, audibly, how dry his mouth was. Quick flush of embarrassment to add to the heap of other buzzing instincts.

“Yes, you were…” his voice trailed off, distracted. Louis was unmoving, green eyes locked to Daniel’s. Arresting, really. He wasn’t sure he could tell apart the curl of arousal, low in his body, from the alarm signals. Unmoving, too patient. His stillness was an uncanny valley, shooting spikes of frantic light up Daniel’s spine.

The slightest raise of his eyebrow. _Go on_ , the gesture said. The rest of his face remained the same.

“You said, umm…” he tried to swallow around the words. Dry. “You said you were… throbbing… from hunger.”

“Yes.”

“Burning… with physical need…”

Louis’s eyes narrowed, and something like a smirk played briefly on his lips. It gave Daniel the distinct impression that he was being _studied_.

“Humans think they understand,” he said softly. He folded his arms over his chest and his eyes moved up and down over Daniel’s body, “but you will never know.”

“Explain it to me.”

“It isn’t hunger,” Louis said. His brow pinched for a moment, in thought, then went smooth again. “Not the way you think of hunger. It’s something else. It’s carnal.”

Carnal.

He pulled the box of cigarettes closer to the edge of the table but still didn’t take one out. He flicked at the worn edge of the flap with his thumb. He wanted to look at it, to fold the box open, to look at the gleam of his lighter, to check the tape. But he felt stuck in Louis’s gaze. Locked there.

“Daniel,” Louis said, and he leaned back in his chair. A finger tapped against his bicep in the pause. “I’m going to ask you something. And I’d like you to be honest with me.”

Hard swallow, dry throat. He tried to answer but settled for nodding his head.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“I…” he almost looked away to check the tape again, but he could still hear the tiny, small squeaking of it turning, turning, turning. It was still recording. Something about it bristled on the surface of his skin, like they were being watched. “I wanted to interview you.”

“No, Daniel,” Louis uncrossed his arms and folded his hands on the tabletop, patiently. Something dark was coming over his expression, something serious and sombre. “There’s more to it than that. Don’t lie to me.”

His mind flashed backwards over the evening--the sight of Louis in the bar, the way it made the back of his neck tingle. It was the plunge of attraction, surely, but something else, too. _Danger_. And the pull towards it was magnetic.

And…

Oh, god. Louis would know if he lied. Omitting was lying. His mind flashed even further, to the interview before this, and the one before. Wasn’t it true that they all had this in common, that they were striking? Not as striking as Louis, of course, but he couldn’t have known that then. Yet it wasn’t a surprise, perhaps was even part of the plan, that the nights always ended the same way. Memories of easy conversation, pleasant voices, mixed with heated skin, the hard edge of teeth grazing his jawline, pleasure upon pleasure unfurling from his body until he was utterly wrung out. He flashed over the interviews, the notes, and it was cut together with the way his ears would always ring after his came, the way his chest would heave as he would come down, sweaty and sated.

The collection of tapes was more subtle than notches on a bedpost. More useful.

And…

Louis’s head tilted to the side.

With the memories surging in his mind, the question hanging in the air, it was hard not to dwell upon it. And it was hard not to see Louis the way he’d seen him in the bar earlier, picturing the pale hands on his skin, lips on his throat. But, _oh god_ , now that he knew… the _teeth_...

He shuddered, and the anxious butterflies in his gut began to feel somewhat warmer, curling into the beginning tendrils of arousal.

“Are you aroused?” the question was so plain, so simple and nearly clinical, but it burned instant and red in Daniel’s face. Excuses and lies were filling his mouth, but Louis was holding him there, staring hard. His peripheral vision was going wavy, fading, like Louis was the only thing in the room. It was like a suggestive, gentle hand, pressing into his head, squeezing softly.

He didn’t even realize he was speaking when he nodded and said _yes_.

Louis was a fixed point in the room, the rest hazy now, beginning to spin. He held to the edge of the table, trying to stay afloat.

“You wanted to, what’s the word you use today?” Louis pressed a finger to his bottom lip, then smiled beneath it. “To _fuck_.”

“I…” fingertips were going cold, but he shifted in his seat, hoping he could adjust himself.

“You don’t have to lie, Daniel,” he smirked then, and folded his hands against the table again. “This is, actually, precisely what I mean to explain to you. You think you understand what I mean when I mention desperate, burning need. But you can’t know.”

“No, I--”

The eyes narrowed so that Daniel stopped. His hands were beginning to shake again.

“Stand up, Daniel,” Louis said. And, again without realizing he was doing it, he was pushing against the table, sliding the chair back. The legs scraped against the floor. But then he was standing, and he almost wanted to cover the way his pants were tenting, but he knew Louis would stop him. And it was silly to try to hide at this point, he knew. Instead, his hands fidgeted at his sides, nails scratched against his thighs. “What do you think it is that’s making you feel this way? Tell me.”

He couldn’t help laughing for a moment--the irony of all of it was funny, he was certain, but it was the instinct to diffuse his own fear. His face was coated in a thin sheen of sweat again, and he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand as he tried to figure out the answer.

“It’s…” fuck, this was humiliating, “the… anticipation… I think…”

“Anticipation,” the vampire repeated.

“And…” he found himself frowning, confused. Louis still had him stuck here, and he wasn’t feeling equipped to try to lie. It wasn’t that. It was… he’d never said it out loud, wasn’t sure how.

“Are you afraid of me?” Louis asked. And he felt it click into place, like a key, like something being unlocked.

“...yes…”

“But you’re enjoying it, are you not?”

“Yeah.”

Now Louis’s turn to laugh, and it was a deep, low rumble from his chest. Knowing and pleased. “I understand. I believe that’s something we have in common.”

And, right. Right. He supposed it might make sense, thinking on the way Louis had described his maker. And the way… the way…

“Take off your clothes,” he said. And it was only then that Daniel was able to break away from Louis’s gaze, long enough to pull his shirt over his head, enough to look down and see the hair rising on his legs as he stepped out of his pants. He took a moment to stare at the tape recorder, still turning and turning, and the idea that all of this was being _recorded_ gave him a perverse little shock.

It felt chilly in the room, and he was in a daze when he righted his posture and met Louis’s eyes again. He couldn’t remember moving to take his clothes off, or agreeing to. It had happened too fast, and he wasn’t entirely sure he was in control. This time, his hands did go to cover himself, and he felt his half-erection beneath his palm. Louis seemed amused by it all.

“Why don’t you touch yourself, Daniel?” he asked. Only, it wasn’t a question. But he was complying already, pressing his palm against the soft head. His other hand trailed down over his hip, traced the line inside his groin, hovered there. It barely took the extra stimulation for his cock to stir, and he felt it twitching. Louis’s eyes were so green. He wrapped his fingers around the shaft, overhanded, and began to move.

The first jolts of sensation had his muscles tensing all over, and he felt his nipples going hard. Not from pleasure, he didn’t think--probably from the drafty air in the room. And the eyes on him, lighting up the frisson of shame. He could hear the mouse-squeaks of the tape recorder again and knew that the blush was traveling down his neck. It would be splotchy on his chest soon. God, if anyone else ever heard this tape…

Shame, yes, and the tops of his ears were burning, but he felt the way he went stiff beneath his own hand. He chewed on his bottom lip to hold in a moan, because that would’ve been too mortifying to survive.

Slow strokes, timid, and in the bottom of this thoughts, buried under the tension, was the vague comparison to the others. It felt like an antithesis--he was cold and exposed like this, subservient, demeaned. It wasn’t the same closeness, the same passion, flirty and warm and sensuous. It was animalistic, and now… now he just felt like an animal, in a different sense. Like a pet. Like an experiment. Louis’s amusement and curiosity weren’t far from the fact that he was a _predator._

And… and…

He shifted, repositioned his hand so that he could feel the swollen, heavy weight in his palm. He wanted to look, to see for himself, the way his head usually went plum-colored, the way the precum would be glistening there in a bead at any moment. But no, no. He didn’t look away from Louis. _A predator_ , his mind told him again. The idea that he might be _devoured_ made his breath stutter, and his free hand dug nails into the tender skin inside his thigh.

He wondered if Louis knew. If he would take it as an invitation. It pushed a boundary between fetish and reality and his heart thundered in his chest.

Fuck, _fuck_ , he probably knew. The anxiety fluttered, low in his stomach, tight in his balls. The adrenaline gushed in his sides.

“Why are you nervous?” Louis asked. Daniel laughed before he answered, a quick, rough spike that came from his throat. Was it a serious question? Rhetorical? A test? The way the laughter clenched in his abs rippled down through his other parts and he bit his lip.

It was hard to focus on coming up with an answer--the way the sensation was building, the erotic chill of fear, the invisible, yet hard embrace of Louis’s eyes on him. It was too much to sum up in a single answer, and too embarrassing to admit anyway. He gasped as a quick jolt shot down his legs, all the way to his toes, and any capability for language evaded him all together.

And then Louis was gone, and in his place he just saw the chair and the black cape slung over the back. His muscles went tense, startled, as he felt Louis’s presence behind his back and he let go of himself by instinct. He wanted to draw away, his body telling him to bolt, but he felt the cold hand on his hip holding him in place.

“Please, continue,” Louis said, softly, his voice even and polite like it was the most normal thing in the world. He looked to watch the tremors in his hands, then to the reels of the tape turning and turning beneath the plastic window on the recorder.

He hadn’t realized that he’d pressed his hands to his chest until he went to move again. Louis’s breath was cold on the back of his neck as he reached down again, cupping his balls and pressing his fingertips to the pressure point at the base of his dick, rubbing in a small circle before taking his shaft in hand again. His free hand remained pressed flat to his breastbone, but as he continued to stroke it wandered down tease at his own nipple.

Louis’s nails dug into his skin.

Of course he’d had his doubts when the interview began. He’d known, off the bat, that this person would be a character, that he’d have something interesting to say. Of course he would. He was too peculiar not to. And who, the fuck, would believe this story about a vampire?

Over the last hour or two he’d become enamoured, though, and there was something hypnotic about the way Louis spoke. And Daniel _believed him._ He kept trying to focus on anything tactile, anything real. The feel of the oak table under his hands, the sound of traffic outside. He wondered if Louis was spellbinding him somehow, if he was susceptible to trickery, a complete ruse. Vampire? Maybe. But there was something off about this man, something special, something dark.

Feeling him now at his back, he believed.

It made his blood run cold.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked. Soft voice again, unassuming. His lips brushed the outside of Daniel’s ear.

“Wh-what?” his hand slowed but Louis touched his forearm, then slid down to give him a gentle squeeze around the wrist. The cold fingertips pressed into his skin, suggesting a rhythm. _Don’t stop_ , it said. Daniel’s breath was shaky as he picked up the pace.

“I said,” his teeth grazed the corner of Daniel’s jaw, “what are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

His answer was too quick, too nervous. Louis chuckled from behind him.

“You’re lying, Daniel.”

 _Oh god_.

He could feel the stillness again, the way he’d observed it, Louis’s frame an unmoving weight at his back. He could feel the power, the age, the truth behind his words.

Again the thought of being _devoured_ , the sense of being prey.  Under Louis’s hands like this he felt the strength, the danger. It made him whimper out loud, and his head fell back against Louis’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna come,” he whined, and it was getting tight all over. His chest heaved from the exertion.

But Louis squeezed his wrist again, hard. Enough that it hurt, and Daniel hissed, and he let go of himself.

“No, you’re not,” Louis whispered.

_Fuck._

“It’s something like this,” he said. His voice was too serene, to the point of being infuriating. Daniel felt stretched thin between the duality of it--innocent, almost coy, like he was commenting on the weather, yet coming from that cold mouth. _His teeth_. There, in his arms, Daniel felt the distinct sense of all the lives he’d taken.

“The hunger,” Louis continued. “Do you feel it? The way it… aches… beneath your skin?”

His voice spilled out in a pathetic, whining knot.

“What does it feel like, Daniel?”

The cold hand on his hip pet down against his thigh, then drew back, settling firm against the mound of his ass. Daniel was sweating again, it was tickling around his hairline.

“Please,” he whined.

“Please what?”

“I… I need…”

Louis pressed his lips to the top of Daniel’s shoulder.

“What?” he asked against the living flesh. He opened his mouth enough to reveal his teeth, and his fangs left dimples hidden among Daniel’s freckles.

_He could kill me._

His cock was dripping, throbbing.

“Why did you bring me here?” Louis asked again. His voice was as calm as it had been before, as if it were a trivial matter. “The truth, Daniel.”

“I…” he wanted to look, to see Louis’s face, but was too scared to turn to him. Instead he let his head hang, chin to chest, and watched the precum leaking from his cock, stared at the stark whiteness of Louis’s hand against his own. “I wanted to fuck you.”

“I see.”

“Please,” he wasn’t even sure what he was asking for, except that his body was strung tight and crying for release.

“Please,” Louis repeated, voice flat, and hummed in thought. The tape squeaked as it turned, like ticking the seconds away, and the moment seemed to stretch forever.

But then Louis let go of him, and drew back. Daniel turned to look over his shoulder in time to see Louis biting into his own wrist, and he could smell the blood instantly. And, he’d known. He had. He’d believed by now. But the scent of it hitting the air shattered all of his doubts. It was…

“Face forward,” Louis said, and he was running his fingers through the wound. Daniel’s mouth gaped open for a beat before he was able to turn away. His eyes fixed on Louis’s empty chair again, the black cape. A cold hand eased against the small of his back. “Hands on the table.”

Obeying was second nature, and he almost had the presence of mind to wonder if it was hypnosis, but the thoughts disintegrated completely when he felt the bloodied, wet fingertips circling against his hole. His shoulders went stiff, head hung. Bangs fell into his eyes and he watched his knuckles going white against the tabletop.

Louis stepped closer, using his foot to nudge at Daniel’s ankle, easing his legs further apart. It shouldn’t have felt like this, and Daniel felt his face going hot. It should’ve felt clinical, embarrassing, not sexy at all. But the thought of it, the apprehension…

_The blood._

It was slick in a way that human blood wasn’t, thicker and richer and he was groaning as Louis entered him.

“This is what you wanted?” Louis asked. His fingers drew back, pressing in a circle around his rim, stretching him, and Daniel’s jaw fell open, not sure what words to use.

There was warmth blooming and it wasn’t the typical feeling of arousal. It was heady, dizzying, radiating outward and ringing in his ears. His arms were buckling under his own weight and the colors in the room were going deeper, drab as they were. He gasped for breath as Louis thrust back in, and scissored his fingers, and playfully traced circles against his prostate. The knots in the wood on the tabletop were moving, pulsing. He had the sense that the wood had been living once. He could see the faint imprint of his bottom lip on the crushed butt of a cigarette, jutting from the piles of others in the ashtray. His peripheral vision fluttered and expanded and it seemed to let more light into the room. More detail.

“Lo-ouis--” he stuttered. One of his palms slid, sweaty, against the table, and his whole body jerked to catch himself. But Louis’s hand was on his hip, tight, holding him in place.

“Yes?”

It was desperation akin to panic, and he was skipping breaths, lungs were burning.

Earlier, in the bar, Louis was nearly glowing. And it wasn’t just his skin, not that he was so pale, it was, it was--

“It hurts, doesn't it?” Louis asked. From anyone else it would’ve been a taunt, but he seemed so sympathetic. His fingers curled as if to make his point. Daniel whimpered.

“Louis--”

“Yes?”

“Please,” he collapsed downward on himself, leaning his forehead on the back of his hand. “ _Fuck me_ , Louis, please.”

He went to touch himself again, unable to wait, but Louis had pinned his wrist to the table before he could comprehend what was happening. When he shut his eyes he saw stars. Still holding him down, Louis pulled back from Daniel’s body, and he could hear the whisper of Louis’s buttons coming undone, even over the din of the night outside that sounded like rushing water, over the squeaking tape deck. He wasn’t sure why he was hearing it, except that his body was on fire and just, everything, _everything_ …

_I heard the night as if it were a chorus of whispering women--_

The clatter of Louis’s belt coming unbuckled broke through it, and the sound of his zipper. It was a sound almost completely interwoven with sex, and his hair stood on end when he felt the press of cold flesh against his body. His muscles went rigid.

“I thought so about Lestat, as well,” Louis said quietly, in response to the helpless gasp. _Cold_.

He released Daniel’s wrist, trailing nails lightly up his arms, then down his back. His grip landed on Daniel’s hip bone, and Daniel’s eyes shot open when Louis leaned in, chest to back. The cold skin felt so unnatural, so--

_Fucking dead._

And then he was being split, opened, and there was again the wave of tingling coming from inside that had his head swimming. Louis placed a hand flat between Daniel’s shoulder blades and pushed him down into the table. And it wasn’t that he was being rough--all of his motions seemed smooth, gentle, considerate--but Daniel could feel the strength behind them, the intensity. It was old power.

“Fuck,” Daniel panted against the table. The fingers dug in, hooking onto his hip bone hard enough that he knew it would leave bruises. Louis’s body rocked against him, and he felt the same chill from the dangling buckle of Louis’s belt and the silky skin of his pelvis as their bodies pushed together. It made him want to jump, to scream, to flee, but Louis’s hold on him was too unflinching, too sure. He was trapped there, he couldn’t move.

Full, and stretched open, and his hands reached blindly for purchase. He knocked into the ashtray and it went flying, then smashed to pieces on the ground. Ashes scattered across the table and he blinked against them, eyes stinging from it, going blurry as Louis increased his pace, pounding in. The legs of the table scraped on the floor beneath their rhythm.

“Louis, Louis,” he tried to breathe, gasping, and he could feel the way his ribs were constricted, the way Louis was holding him down too tight to move. “ _Fuck_. Yes, fuck me.”

A quiet sound of mirth from behind him, and Louis leaned in close to Daniel’s ear. “That’s such a crude word.” The low vibration of Louis’s voice rattled him down to his fingertips.

He was strung out enough that when he laughed it came out as a high-pitched giggle. His hands went rigid, like claws, as if he could tear the table apart as Louis thrust in again. “What word--” sharp breath, caustic pain in his lungs--”would you use then?”

He regretted saying it almost instantly--not even sure where it came from. _He could fucking kill you_ but he was still talking back. If he made it out of here alive he promised himself he’d be more careful.

Louis drove in faster, inhuman and bordering on mechanical, but didn’t seem angry. Charmed, still, as he’d been all evening, and he was chuckling near Daniel’s ear. The hand at his back pushed hard, and his bones were screaming, ready to pop. It was squeezing all the air out of his chest.

“Don’t say any more,” Louis said. The pressure eased and his hand stroked up Daniel’s spine. And it was curling across the damp skin on his neck, until he was pressing into the corners of Daniel’s jaw, palm grinding into his windpipe. His pulse hammered into Louis’s fingertips and his mouth stretched wide. _Can’t breathe can’t breathe he’s going to fucking kill me_ but the air was coming through, it was an illusion. He sputtered and whined and spit was dripping from his mouth, pooling beneath him on the table. He could feel that his dick was dripping onto the floor and he wanted to touch, _needed to touch_ , but he couldn’t move.

The pressure at his throat had him wheezing, unable to speak even if he wanted to, if he knew what to say. He was sure his face was going red the way his dick had, straining and throbbing and burning and--

The string of his saliva dangled from him bottom lip and landed in a shining, neat line on the back of Louis’s hand, rolling down the raised lines of his veins and disappearing into the white cuff of his sleeve.

And like that, the weight was gone, and the air came back in a rush, and it made the color deepen again in his eyes, all around the room as it had before, and the noise outside sounded like music and the pain beneath the vice of Louis’s hands felt warm and nice. Louis’s pace slowed and he held his hand out, turning it so that he could catch the glint of light in the drool. He reached down and swirled his fingers in the puddle on the table, and Daniel couldn’t see his face, but the reverent way he was touching it showed a sense of awe, of curiosity.

There was a final weak, distracted thrust, and then Louis pulled out, and Daniel cried out against the sudden emptiness. But then the hands were on his hips again, and the room was a blur as he was flipped around. The disorienting, weightless feeling like he was going to fall doused his skin with an icy rush of adrenaline.

He was upright, ass perched on the edge of the table, and he reached to grab Louis by instinct.  One hand carded through the black curls at the back of his head, the other touched his face, his jaw, his neck. He was still mostly clothed, still wearing his jacket, and there were tiny red stains around the buttonholes on the open white shirt. And his… eyes… this close…

   

                                                                          

 

Hardon forgotten for a moment, world forgotten. The air felt heavy and damp and rusty and it was hard to see anything except Louis’s face. He shrunk back, but had nowhere to go, holding on so that he wouldn’t tremble, and Louis’s hands were caressing him like he was a pet.

Squeak squeak squeak of the reels turning, and Louis’s hands were on his thighs, sharp nails digging into the meat, and he was on his back suddenly, and Louis was lining himself back up and punching back in. He cried out, no words this time, and wrapped his legs around Louis’s back, ankles hooking together and squeezing tight. He rocked his hips to meet the thrusts and felt his cock dripping against his stomach.

He wanted to say it, he wanted to ask, needed to come, but the thoughts weren’t making sense, and it tasted like metal in his mouth, and he didn’t know, he didn’t know--

“Do you see?” Louis whispered, and his lips were at Daniel’s throat now, silky and cool, and then his teeth were inside, and the pain shot through his body like fire. His hands clutched at Louis’s back, taking handfuls of his black jacket, loose and open but still hanging there, and he was caged in, stuck, only able to feel the hard points of intrusions.

His blood was hot against his own skin, cupped beneath Louis’s cold mouth, and his head fell back against the table.

The silhouettes of dead flies in the light fixture overhead.

Louis drove hard once more and Daniel felt ready to shake apart, full of uncomfortable, electric energy. He reached for the back of Louis’s head again, making a fist in his hair, the curls wrapping tight around his fingers so that they throbbed and went numb.

And he was done, it was over, he was coming untouched and it was splattering across his belly, and he was drifting, floating, and the only things he could feel were the dick in his body and the fangs in his throat, and his head lolled to the side.

His cheek landed in the cooling puddle of drool, and with his orgasm clearing he was able to feel revulsion again, out of the moment, and it had mixed with the cigarette ashes, and--

He closed his eyes.

Heartbeat loud in his ears, racing and bulky, and Louis’s rhythm causing the table to thud against the floor. The quiet mouse-squeaks of his tape recorder.

_Drip drip drip._

The sounds were fading, going quiet, and the air was heavy and damp and full of must. The steady beat of Louis’s hips quieted and blended with the dripping of dank water, somewhere in this place. His cheek against the damp spot on the table, but it wasn’t wood. It was rough and cold and--

Eyes opened.

His heartbeat wasn’t a steady pounding anymore. It was erratic, fluttering, he could taste it in the back of his mouth.

Dirty greenish light and the silhouette standing in the doorway.

 _There have always been things such as we are, always_.

His hand touched his throat and the still-healing wounds were warm, sore. He covered them with his palm and they stung, and he sat up and scooted back on the wet floor, away from the figure in the door. Immaculate, gleaming in the semidarkness. He came forward into the dim light.

A dream, a dream. His cock ached between his legs, straining and full and leaking in his sleep. The pulse in his neck squirmed beneath his hand.

The face was young, but frosty. Hair clipped short tonight. Daniel swallowed hard.

_It’s you._

  


**Author's Note:**

> anyway lmao this is a b-side of [The Usher](http://archiveofourown.org/series/639344)/secretly an Usher fic but I didn't want to say so before cause it would've RUINED THE ~*TWIST*~ . :D
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr link if you wanna reborble](https://monstersinthecosmos.tumblr.com/post/170490435979/various-methods-of-escape-monstersinthecosmos)!
> 
>  
> 
> [AND HERE'S A LINK TO SUPERHIKI'S AWESOME ARTWORK!](http://superhiki.tumblr.com/post/170490418290)
> 
>  
> 
> And FINALLY one more note, NOT VC related but I read almost exclusively YOI fic and I was so inspired by this fic [But Monsters Are Always Hungry, Darling](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13105341/chapters/29983074) and the illustrations, omg, I was murdered! So s/o to that story, it isn't even finished yet but it's my favorite thing in the world, super rec if you're into YOI!


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